“I’m really looking forward to seeing how he develops by his third year of high school.” Karazawa Kazuo gazed at Gu Jin, who was directing the defense on the court, his fingertips lightly tapping the railing. “Perhaps by then, I might even make an exception.”
Shanshan Shouta didn’t reply, but his gaze swept past the crowd and landed on the tall figure in the Ryonan Team’s paint – Uozumi Jun was firmly boxing out Na Takamitsu, his arms spread out like an unshakeable iron tower.
The scene from a few days ago suddenly flashed before his eyes.
When he accompanied Coach Karasawa to visit Uozumi’s home, the spotlessly clean restaurant still had a faint aroma of sauce.
Uozumi’s father was a stern middle-aged man, and his brow remained furrowed whenever his son’s basketball playing was mentioned: “Someone has to inherit our family’s restaurant. Can playing basketball put food on the table?”
It wasn’t until Karasawa mentioned the special recruitment slot for Fukazawa Sports University that the father’s attitude softened slightly. He said in a deep voice, “If he can really be scouted by a university… then he can take over a few years later.”
Shanshan remembered clearly that Uozumi, who was standing by, kept his head down, his fingers tightly clutching the corner of his apron. Beneath his seemingly submissive posture, the bulging veins in his neck betrayed his unwillingness.
But when his father’s words fell, he ultimately just mumbled, “Understood.”
Only his eyes, hidden in the shadows, flashed with a fervent desire, like a smoldering ember waiting for a gust of wind to ignite a prairie fire.
Shanshan watched Uozumi leap energetically on the court, successfully blocking Na Takamitsu’s shot, and silently thought to himself, “Uozumi, you need to perform well.”
He remembered Karasawa’s instructions before they left – as long as Ryonan Team maintained an undefeated record and made it to the semifinals of the National Tournament, they could naturally secure a special recruitment slot for Uozumi.
“From now on, we can’t lose a single game.” Shanshan’s fingertips pressed hard on his notebook. “We must make it to the semifinals… This is your closest chance to achieve your dream, so keep pushing.”
Because Shanshan Shouta’s family situation was too similar to Uozumi’s; he also made it this far despite his family’s opposition.
When Uozumi landed on the court, he let out a muffled roar and pounded his chest with his hand, the determination in his eyes brighter than ever.
He might not have known Shanshan’s calculations, but he clearly understood – every jump, every block, was paving the way for his own future.
Ryonan Team’s offensive horn sounded again, and Sendo, dribbling the ball, advanced with unstoppable momentum.
With 30 seconds left in the first half, the score was 47-36, with Ryonan Team leading by 11 points.
Sendo paused with the ball at the top of the arc, his peripheral vision accurately catching a gap in the paint – Na Takamitsu was being pushed back repeatedly by Uozumi’s large frame, his position under the basket already compromised.
“Uozumi!” Sendo yelled softly, flicking his wrist. The basketball arced high, soaring over the defenders’ heads and landing steadily at Uozumi’s chest.
The moment Uozumi caught the ball, the muscles in his right arm bulged. While backing into Na Takamitsu, his left foot took a half-step towards the basket. This was his “box-out killer move” that he specifically learned from Gu Jin – using his center of gravity to suppress his opponent, then adjusting for power with a half-step.
Na Takamitsu gritted his teeth and tried to push him away, but found Uozumi’s lower body as steady as a rock, and he himself stumbled backward.
“Hmph!” Uozumi grunted, and as he turned, he raised the ball above his head with his right hand. After evading Na Takamitsu’s block, he flicked his wrist, and the basketball slid off his fingertips towards the hoop.
The arc of this hook shot wasn’t high, but it precisely grazed the inside of the backboard and dropped into the net.
“Swish!” The sound of the net was crisp and clear.
49:36.
When Uozumi landed, his chest heaved violently, and beads of sweat splattered onto the floor, but he grinned, revealing a rare smile.
Ever since Coach Karasawa’s visit to his home, he had been practicing post-up techniques for two extra hours every day. The box-out details and power techniques Gu Jin taught him were already ingrained in his muscle memory.
His father’s words, “take over a few years later,” were like a whip, driving him to jump higher – he wanted the smell of cooking oil in the restaurant to temporarily not overshadow the smell of sweat on the basketball court.
Sendo ran over and high-fived him. As their palms met, he could feel the warmth of Uozumi’s fingertips: “Well played.”
“It’s not over yet.” Uozumi wiped away sweat, his steps heavier and steadier than before as he turned to defend.
Shanshan Shouta on the stands clenched his fists, writing “Uozumi Hook Shot Score” with extra force in his notebook.
He understood too well the feeling of struggling between family expectations and personal desires. Every point Uozumi scored now felt like he was earning back a bit more confidence for his past self.
When the referee blew the whistle for the end of the first half, the scoreboard was frozen at 49:36.
Cheers erupted from Ryonan Team’s bench, and Sakuragi threw an arm around Uozumi’s neck: “Monkey Boss! That shot was awesome!”
Uozumi pushed his hand away, but couldn’t help but smile wider.
Uozumi gazed at the lights on the arena ceiling, his eyes like tempered steel needles, a phrase repeatedly turning over in his mind: “I must get into Fukazawa Sports University, and I want to join the national team! I want the name Uozumi Jun to resound throughout Japan!” Sweat dripped down his jawline, creating dark stains on his red jersey, but it couldn't extinguish the fire in his eyes.
During halftime, the Ryonan Team players walked arm-in-arm towards the locker room, but Uozumi lagged half a step behind, raising his hand to touch the bottom of the hoop – a height he still had to conquer countless times.
In Ryokufu’s locker room, the air was like solidified cement.
The doodles on the tactics board were scribbled haphazardly with a marker, and James threw his towel onto the back of a chair with a dull thud.
“This is our last chance!” Fujisawa Eri’s face was terribly dark. “But why can’t you stop Gu Jin? He scored 21 points by himself!”
Head Coach Coleman frowned and tapped the tactics board: “Mike, James, in the second half, you two double-team Gu Jin. Cut off his receiving routes at all costs.”
He paused, his fingertip resting on Sakuragi’s name, “You can ease up on Sakuragi Hanamichi. His shooting threat isn’t significant, don’t let his rebounding disrupt your rhythm.”
Coleman was still dissecting Ryonan Team’s offensive plays, but Fujisawa Eri felt a tightness in her chest and abruptly pulled open the door and walked out.
She met a figure face-to-face.
“Hey, you, stop!” Fujisawa Eri’s tone instantly became sharp as she recognized the person.
Shimamura Yoko looked at her calmly: “It’s you? Is there something you need?”
“You are truly very lucky.” Fujisawa Eri’s voice was tight, her nails digging into her palm. “So lucky that I dislike you more and more.”
Fujisawa Eri’s hand, clutching the corner of her clothes, tightened sharply, her fingertips almost piercing the fabric – Why? She could always go to Gu Jin during timeouts, offer him water, wipe his sweat… Why couldn’t it be me?
Shimamura Yoko seemed to see through the unwillingness in her eyes. After two seconds of silence, she suddenly smiled, her tone calm but with an undeniable certainty: “Miss Fujisawa, you are an excellent girl. With a good family background and good looks, you should be cherished wherever you go.”
Her gaze lightly swept over Fujisawa Eri’s custom-made jacket, which clearly looked expensive. “But whether two people can be together is never about who shines brighter.” Shimamura Yoko looked up, meeting Fujisawa Eri’s tense jawline. “The most important thing is, they must be in the same world.”